Handles

I agree with Calvin (of Calvin and Hobbes) when he said: "an artist's statement says far more than his work ever could." Not being a "trained" artist makes me pretty insecure about making any statements at all. But sometimes I think people really want to know what makes an artist tick, to understand what catches their fancy and motivates them to create something. 

I hated and avoided painting still life for years and now I think I finally understand why:  I'm accustomed to painting portraits and figures which are interesting in and of themselves. This requires posing and lighting, certainly. But those things come pretty naturally to me and I'm lazy. It takes thought and effort and introspection to set up a good still life composition. So, now that I've worked on still life composition consistently for awhile, I'm beginning to see things differently and hopeful to be composing interesting and pleasing still lifes. 

It takes me a long while to set up. I change my lighting and textiles and objects over and over until I find something worth painting. This time, I didn't actually know what was right about the composition until I started work on it; I just knew that I liked it. The studio was so dark that I was able to achieve "lost edges," where the edges of the forms melt into the background. I love the repetition of the shapes of the two jugs, which contrast in value. And lastly, the angular wooden butter press sharply contrasts with the rounded shapes of the jugs. I am especially pleased with the handles...they define the painting for me. I hope this has been entertaining or informative to you. I may not even be using the right artsy terminology but I doubt that matters to those who are truly interested in how things are made!!

Permission

Christmas Card Production

One thing I allow myself is a messy studio. It's dusty, dog-hairy, slightly disorganized, and comfortably grubby.   The studio is my sanctuary and I am at peace with my own disorder and dirtiness, whereas the rest of my domicile must conform to some image of domesticity, order and cleanliness.  The 'house' is reasonably organized and when clutter accumulates beyond a certain 'acceptable' level it must be purged! But, other than the studio, there is no place in which I am completely at peace, at rest, because of there being something which always needs doing. Tidying.  Cleaning.  Painting, repairing, whatever.  Here there is no standard, no image to uphold. It's just my place.  All of the brushes, paints, computer, monitor, cables and cords,paintings, sketches, calendar, books, easel, library table, rug, cabinet, slop sink, watering can, dogs, smudgy windows overlooking the yard, closeness to the greenhouse and across the hall from the kitchen, just a stone's throw from the pottery studio and my garden makes it just about perfect. And perfectly messy.

Stop Yelling (I Can Hear You)

Eight years ago this past February I quit my job to become a full time artist.  But opportunities arose and I ended up becoming a potter, teacher, shop keeper, and finally a caregiver for my parents.  I did, however, paint through out, and did some acceptable work, in spite of all the wonderful distractions.

Eight years ago.  As I see it now, in perfect hindsight, I gave into the fear and doubt, ONCE AGAIN, and allowed these things to take precedence.  But now I have slowly, one by one, unburdened myself of each of these delightful distractions, and dedicated myself to my art, once and for all, for ever and ever.  Amen.

I wouldn't trade a single one of those gifts, the pottery at Boonesfield, the store on Main Street, the big studio at the Foundry Art Centre, or our lovely teaching studio at Crossroads, or the precious time with my parents, for anything else.  Those were amazing and wonderful times.  The thing I regret, though, is not putting my painting first. I wonder where I would be now, almost a decade later, if I had pursued it with a passion.  I can't look back.  Life is all about choices and we tend to make decisions based on a lot of circumstances, including doubt and fear.

I won't be afraid any more.  This is who I am.  This is what I do. Life will present me with other challenges and distractions and, honestly, duties that I must attend.  But the work is first and foremost.  Ya hear? (I am yelling at myself.)

Here's another POD.  This time it is Tim's eye.  Hope you enjoy it.

'Supporting the Arts' vs. 'Supporting Artists':

We had a wonderful time at 2nd Thursdays @ The Foundry Art Centre last night. Food trucks in the parking lot, music and making art inside. But when you lower art-making to the lowest common denominator, as in Johnny making a piece of art in ten minutes that he can take home that looks just as good as the sample, or for that matter, some of the art on display, why should anyone pay for "art" that artists make? Part of me LOVES the whole concept of "you TOO can make a pot!" And another part of me thinks it demeans the work of serious artists. The third part of me says we need to challenge the narcissism of artists anyway! Unfortunately, the bottom line is that for artists to sustain themselves financially is almost impossible.

When 'Johnny and Susie' make art, and it's as good or better than what you see on the walls in the gallery, it makes me ask the irreconcilable question of 'What IS art?' I know better than to "go there." It doesn't stop me from musing on it, however. At the very least, I think great art is great story telling.  But more than this, artists proclaim what they love. Some art is beautiful (more so to some people than others). Some art is ugly and offensive (also more to some than to others.)  These subjective evaluations are in the mind and eye of the observer.  But, even if an artist portrays chaos and ugliness, she is proclaiming that order and beauty have a purpose.  It may not be the ideal to which she is striving but at least there is the sensibility that she is challenging the definition.  

I'd like to make the case that creating art is similar to falling in love.  When we are in love, we want to tell everyone we know about it, write songs and poems about, think about and focus all of our creative energy on the loved one. Perhaps, art can be defined as something we love passionately enough to focus all of our creative energy, thoughts and passion upon.  If we don't love it enough, it will be a hobby/playmate.  If we dash off something too easily, lacking passion, we demean our lover and perhaps aren't making art at all, but rather are crafting .

I am in a quandary right now, wondering how I'm proclaiming my loves. I am torn into bits, parts of me going in lots of directions.  I'm taking myself back to a vulnerable place by exposing myself to this blog.  By revealing my lack of skill and vision, I am tearing down walls that I have built up over decades that have protected my image but have walled off creativity, spontaneity and joy.